


Four-Eyes

by tardisy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean in Glasses, M/M, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-19 20:36:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1483039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardisy/pseuds/tardisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over the years, he and Sam had added a lot of awesome weapons and knick-knacks to their arsenal, but these things were definitively, no doubt in his mind, swear as truth under consequence of never being allowed to even glance in the direction of a freshly baked pie again, his absolute favorite addition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four-Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on [Tumblr](http://tardisy.tumblr.com/post/83064507753/four-eyes).

 

The glasses were heavy and bulky, pinching uncomfortably at the soft skin behind his ears when he turned his head too much, slip-sliding down the sweaty bridge of his nose when he tipped his chin toward his flushed chest, fogging with his humid breath as he huffed and heaved.

He was going to solder the goddamned things to his face so he never had to take them off.

Over the years, he and Sam had added _a lot_ of awesome weapons and knick-knacks to their arsenal, but these things were definitively, no doubt in his mind, swear as truth under consequence of never being allowed to even _glance_ in the direction of a freshly baked pie again, his absolute favorite addition.

Briefly, he wondered if it was possible to holy-fire up a stash of contact lenses so he’d look less like those hipsters at Sam’s farmers’ market fruit fairs, or whatever he called them.

Then Castiel twisted in a particularly interesting way, and suddenly all rational thought imploded as Dean’s eyes flew shut and his hands scrabbled desperately for Cas’ waist.

“ _Nnghh, ffuhhh’k._ ”

“Dean,” Castiel murmured, voice low, cracking. “ _Dean.”_

He draped himself over Dean, pressing a heated kiss to his parted lips as their scruff caught and scratched. Dean felt him shift to tug at the frames, readjusting them over his closed eyes. Cas laughed between the soft moans that sounded like they bubbled from the center of his chest.

“Does it not defeat the purpose of this exercise if you refuse to _look_?” An electric, thrumming current suddenly brushed across the flushed skin of Dean’s cheeks, and he groaned. “Or perhaps,” and Cas rocked against him again, that same electricity licking teasingly down his sides, _shit_ , “you are content with merely _feeling_?”

Dean reached out blindly to clutch at the swirling mass of energy that he knew – always knew, but with these glasses he could _see_ – protruded from the angel’s back. Castiel gasped, and rutted hard against the firm line of Dean’s body.

“It’s your fault, buddy,” Dean ground out. “You pull shit like that, I can’t help but shut my friggin’ eyes. It’s like a primitive defense mechanism or somethin’.”

“I don’t think that’s quite right,” Cas panted, Dean’s fingers still twisting and curling at his back, “and you are far too coherent.”

Dean opened his eyes, and as the fog in the lenses cleared, he could see the substantial arch of Cas’ charcoal wings forming a wispy canopy above them in the dim light of the motel room. They shuddered when Dean bit at the bolt of Cas’ jaw, flexed when he ran his fingertips lightly up and down the curves of his arms, the valleys of his ribs, and fluttered helplessly when Dean abruptly pushed up against him, flipping them so he could press Castiel into the mattress. His wings were spread on either side of him, dark and prone against the stark white of the rumpled sheets, before they curled upward to wrap around Dean from the top of his head to the tips of his toes and beyond.

Dean looped his arms beneath Cas’ shoulders to cradle his head, even as he twitched and shivered in the cocoon of Cas’ grace, and kissed him deeply, the hard line of the holy-fire glasses squashed awkwardly against their faces.

“Too coherent, huh?” Dean smiled, cocky, waggling his eyebrows to match, despite the breathy resonance of his voice. “Does that… ruffle your feathers, Cas?”

Castiel growled as he surged against Dean, his wings pulling in the opposite direction, leaving Dean trapped and happily powerless between them. Some of Cas’ shadowy pinions draped in a crown about his head, slipping in the space between the glasses and quivering against the thin skin of his eyelids, threading with his eyelashes.

Oh, yeah. He was stocking up on holy oil and calling 1-800-CONTACTS first thing in the morning.

Just in case.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on [Tumblr](http://tardisy.tumblr.com/post/83064507753/four-eyes).


End file.
